Page 177 of Bonded in Death

“Truth matters, and when spoken matters more. She would have liked you a great deal. She was a warrior, too.”

He glanced down. “There’s blood on your shirt.”

“It’s from before.”

“I’ll see to it. We’ll have spaghetti and meatballs tonight, for Giovanni. If you’re not overly tired by then, I hope you’ll join us.”

He walked away before she answered, or could think how to answer.

Instead, she finished the work, then went out to see Roarke sitting at Peabody’s desk.

“Done,” she told him. “Jenkinson, you and your tie have the wheel. I’m going home.”

“We got it.” He, very deliberately, fluttered his tie so that she walked out on an eye roll.

“They were impressed,” Roarke told her.

“With what, the interview?”

“With how you handled it. Tibble had told them what was happening, the transfer. It took the edge off. I won’t say they enjoyed it—although some parts, yes.”

“He was just so… do they say ‘cocksure’ because it’s a man thing?”

“I refuse to answer that. You got your color back in there, skewering him.” He rubbed his knuckles down her cheek. “You’re losing it again now.”

“Just need some sleep. A shower. A really long, hot shower, then sleep. Peabody was fierce.”

“She was.”

“Mira and Reo really played him.”

“The four of you bonded—one purpose. And it was impressive.”

“Teamwork. He was so proud of it, the idea he’d worked out that nothing he did here would matter. ‘Kill, maim, destroy, so what? Can’t hold it against me.’”

“And you proved otherwise.”

“The law did. The system worked—both sides of the ocean.”

By the time they made it to the garage, it started blurring a little. But it satisfied that she could still see the shock on Potter’s face when she’d lowered the boom.

“A boom’s a noise.”

“It is indeed.” He opened the passenger door, all but poured her into it.

“Then why do you lower it?”

“A boom on a ship. You raise and lower it.”

“That’s stupid. I wish I hadn’t thought it.”

Adoring her, he walked to the driver’s side, got behind the wheel.

“Spaghetti and meatballs,” she muttered.

“After you’ve slept.”

“Yeah, no. Summerset said spaghetti and meatballs, and we should eat with them. I dunno.”

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